The Darkest Secret
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: What if Dick had a secret darker than his past? A much more dangerous one..? Requested.


**The "Pimp Daddy" is a term referring to the highest ranked pimp, or the King of Pimps to put it in simpler terms. There can only be _one _Pimp Daddy, one head, one leader to all of the furs in the world; only one with the strongest pimp hand and the sharpest cane whap. There are so many who claim to keep the bitches in line, but the only one truly in control of all of us working girls, the ones who casually hang around the corner… Abby Catlin. She is such high in power that it has wiped your memory free of any mention of her, but only _SHE _is _the _Pimp Daddy. **

**Anyway, this fic is for_ random obsession_. I know it's late, but I had to think up a power well suited for our baby bird. The power I picked is pretty stupid, I do admit, but if you watch the show hardcore, you might find the hints… I mean, you have to use twisted logic, but it's better than it would have been if I had used flying or something. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! Ha! I don't get why I laughed. That's actually really depressing…**

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There are some secrets in this world that can't be hidden behind closet doors, no matter how tight the deadbolt or how far you bury it beneath baggy jeans and tiny shirts that you know you'll never wear again. These secrets are of the darkest kind, their intensity turning their shade so black that even when they grin, you can't make even the faintest of their outline out when the lights are off. Even when the lights are mistakenly flipped on, the severity of such secrets adapt to the brightness faster than the light can travel, staying hidden in the shine where it can easily pounce out and attack in a breath for when you least expect it.

These secrets are the ones you can't even tell your best friend, the pain burning deep in your stomach slowly eating you away as you just know someone has to be told when no set of even deaf ears can be trusted. They're the kind of secrets that you can't even trust yourself to keep because you know if it slips out, you could lose everyone you've come to trust and all those you've lied to from the second this secret arose. The secret doesn't even have to be that bad to irk the world, turning their backs to you, but this particular secret was. It wasn't as dark as regular secrets of this nature were, but it was one he wasn't proud to claim to be his own.

It had plagued him for 13 years now, going onto 14 as March approached even though he had only been aware of it for 10 ½ years now, the building pressure slowly breaking him enough to tell three people. Only those three souls knew of the trouble that haunted him like the most restless of spirits, knew of the pain that kept him awake every night more than the memory of his parents' death. They were his three closest worlds, seeing that he was stranded on a different planet in itself when this dark secret came across his mind, three worlds endangered just by the fact they knew.

The isolated earth, the one by itself in the universe, the one that felt so disgusted with its darker atmosphere that it distanced itself from everyone else to protect them, had many names. The name I'll supply is Dick, seeing that there's only one of those in this universe when referring to names and not adjectives to describe certain souls in which case there would be rare a soul not written under that category.

What kind of a secret could possibly be _this _bad? It would have to be something worse than Conner using a practical drug from his 'father', Lex Luthor, a sworn enemy of the Justice League, to gain strength. It would have to be worse than Artemis hiding the fact that her parents and her sister were all cons, only one being ex. It would be a lot darker than Megan concealing the fact that the pretty appearance she held was but an illusion because underneath, she was a scary-looking creature. If it hadn't, he would've confessed while the others had, coming clean about such simple a secret.

This secret was so heavy, lining the bottom of his heart like an ocean of melted anvils, he couldn't even begin to bring it up to the people he only half-trusted. Only one person on the team knew a little of it, but not even Bruce was aware of how powerful this secret was, the pain burning away at Dick's insides much more than anyone had ever imagined. The only three to even hear a gist of what powers lurked beneath the ebony's innocence were Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne and Wally West, the only three to survive knowing the secret. But now, it was likely that the last two on the list would be knocked off to join Mary and John Grayson, the list of those who knew the secret quickly expanding.

Anyone with a camera, video or not, leaned out their windows or from behind spots of protection to record this horrifying scene, their eyes wide and their mouths agape. The streets were torn apart, the rage echoing off every atom around them, not a breath to be exhaled. All eyes, ranging from the brightest amber to the scarcest yellow, were unable to look away from Batman and Robin who had officially dropped the Dynamic, replacing it with Dueling.

Batman's eyes were forced into wide gaps, his lips paralyzed momentarily in an emotionless expression, his hands drawn into the tightest of fists. Robin's eyes were narrowed into the tightest of slits, his lips pulled back to expose his gritted teeth, a thin trail of blood running past his lips. Both were a bit roughed up, their costumes torn in nearly the same spots, their eyes locked together, neither moving for the longest time as they struggled to catch their breath through angered pants and equally as calm ones.

"Y… you! You're not… Batman…" Robin roared, his hair and cape alike billowing around as if he was standing behind a jet's engines.

The air was without wind. The flags were flat against their poles, Batman's cape flat along the backs of his calves and all other of the civilians' hair flat. This wind was self-procured, growing in strength the longer the Dark Knight kept his silence. It quickly grew rough enough to knock the mask straight from the folds of Robin's face, his regularly dark blue orbs the brightest of scarlets. The irises of his eyes expanded to his whole eye, the glow a near neon with a faint black swirl inscribed so it wasn't internal Hellfire that Batman was staring into.

The bird's canines grew noticeably sharper, piercing his bottom lip before he had time to move it, the resulting scarlet as bright as his eyes. The red vest over his chest tore at the straps, leaving him with just black tights and a utility belt that struggled to keep from rising up the appearancely starved stomach, the carefully chiseled four-pack much more apparent without the bulletproof material blocking it. With it, the black cape blew off into the wind, snagging on a telephone pole where it lay itself to rest.

"_Give him back_," Robin growled slowly, a vibrating red aura lining his figure.

It consumed him like a fire, the darker scarlet overlapping the neon red of his eyes to make a horrifying gleam that echoed off in a near sparkle, his anger becoming more and more visible. The cautious acrobat from before was now the monster he had managed to conceal for this long, the fear of losing his only remaining family taking over and breaking him like a frail twig over the knee of a tempered child. The throb from the bruises and cuts that now marred his skin only further fueled his dark secret to the surface, breaking the illusion of his childhood innocence.

The Batman imposter didn't twitch at the monster that had become of his sidekick, not a muscle in his face moving. Not a breath he fearlessly pulled a batbomb from his utility belt, chucking it at the teen's blazing head. Robin snagged the explosive with his hand as it exploded, giving off a pure animalistic growl of pain before he lunged at his mentor. All memories of the bond they shared before that had made him hold back from fighting to his full potential.

Now, all that was left was the rage the bird had always kept from using, bottled up from years of keeping his mouth shut when he knew something had to be said. The power was unimaginable and his subconscious planned to use it all until it was Bruce Wayne on the ground, not a puppet. A pale hand, wrapped in the fiery aura of the exposed secret, bound itself around the covered neck, lifting Batman into the air after he had darted over in a speed faster than any Flash had ever known, tossing him violently through the air.

The man seemed to catch flight for a moment before he remembered he was in potential danger, throwing his head over his heels and skidding his feet across the pavement, using his glove to slow his speed. It was all in a second which he quickly recovered from, bolting back towards the monster in his 'son's' place, rubbing his neck once to relieve the temporary pain.

"_We don't have to do this! Just give me my mentor back and I can spare you!_" Robin's voice cut the instinct, blocking a well aimed kick with a fast-timed rabbit punch.

The intention was to knock him down which worked, with the added benefit of putting an ache to the man's leg. Batman was down yet though, much to Robin's disappointment. _He _had no intention to kill the man he called his father, but this secret deep within him would do anything to keep him safe, fueled from his negative emotions. Seeing that they poured from his seams and creases like mist from a lake's top, the outcome didn't look too good in Batman's favor.

A flash of cape and a smoke pellet managed to disorient the neon eyes, allowing a sharp black boot to bring itself hard on the ex-sidekick's neck. It resulted in a loud crack noise that stopped even the boldest of hearts, everyone giving a cry of fear for the Boy Wonder who seemed to have lost the Wonder in his title. And the boy part. Now he was kind of like Monster Scary or Scary Monster which would better suit his current image. He wasn't affected though. He simply raised his hands up and snapped his neck back with an even louder crack in a blink, grabbing Batman's leg midair.

He slammed the Dark Knight down hard onto the asphalt with a cry of rage, splintering the road and making parts of it fly around in a flurry. Nothing louder than a grunt sounded, the man behind the cowl recovering fast to spin his leg out and trip the boy. When Robin spiraled his arms out to catch himself, Batman leapt to his feet and spun, slamming his elbow into the small of the bird's neck, crushing him to the earth in a WWE-like move. The monster gave a roar of agony, flipping himself over and pressing Batman down with his back to gain leverage.

He raised his red hands over his head and pushed himself into a handstand, turning back and falling flat on his feet again, sliding his foot back in a fighting stance, raising his fists with a smirk. His whole position had a cocky attitude to it which became even more evident when Batman stood up, a flurry of fists landing in his lower stomach. The older ebony hunched down in pain, leaping back and rolling out of the way, staggering to his feet once a safe distance away. When he stood back up, he opened his lips for the first time, a smirk stretching over his lips.

"Tch. Unimpressive," he wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, scoffing lightly.

Robin froze, the two technical words worse than a bullet to the heart, a scream of anger deafening the world around him. He tore across the road, pure murder written across his scarlet irises, picking up speed as Batman started to laugh.

"Pathetic," he spat as he was slammed down against the road by his throat. "Y-You're… just here… because you have no w-where else to be… no o-one to go h-home to! You're alone!"

The imposter purposefully fueled the monster, heartbroken punched tearing hard at Batman's chest, a crack sounding after every hit.

"D… Don't remind me…" he was on the verge of tears, trembling as his punches got harder, his face contorted in pain.

That was the last of his consciousness to pang up. The second one tear hit the blood-stained black mask, there was no more hill to go down. It was a straight drop off to the bottom and he had been pushed, falling and falling until he sat up straight in his bed with a strangled scream of fear.

"Bruce!" Dick Grayson sat alone in his bed at the Wayne Manor, no glow to his skin, no costume to his body.

He had a white t-shirt over his chest, entangled in the blankets as if they were a straitjacket, unable to escape their death-gripped hug. He struggled hard, ignoring the confusion that racked his body, bucking back and forth in pure panic. His mind couldn't register. Where was the road? He didn't hurt his 'dad', did he? Was he really that much of a monster?

The door to his room slammed open fast, the doorknob digging into the back of the wall from the intense pressure used to get into the room. A worried figure only stood in the doorway for a breath, a light snapping on before Bruce Wayne was at his ward's side. He tried to hide the look of fear on his own face, untangling his baby from the sheets, demanding to know what the matter was. Dick couldn't find the right words to express the reason he trembled, so he instead threw his arms around Bruce's neck, hugging him tight.

The billionaire tensed, drawing in air swiftly at the affection, but he didn't reject it, setting a hand to Dick's back lightly. He turned his eyes over in the boy's direction, his mind already sore from the complexity of the reason he suspected the small frame in his arms was trembling. He stayed calm and patient though, trusting that the thirteen year old would tell him when he felt it necessary.

"I-I… I had that dream again…" Dick managed to gasp out, lightening his hold on his guardian, scooting over in the bed so Bruce could sit down beside him.

The older ebony did as suggested, leaning back against the headboard and folding his arms over his stomach, crossing his ankles above the covers. Once adjusted, he turned his attention down to the figure beside him. The boy looked so small and vulnerable, curled up in a ball with his head on the pillow, his big blue eyes staring up fearfully. He wanted nothing more than to hug the fear away, but that would simply be awkward so he did nothing of the sort.

".. 'That dream'?.." Bruce repeated cautiously, reaching a hand out and lightly tousling the soft black hair.

Dick smiled shyly at the touch, curling his hands under his cheek, his eyes never leaving his mentor's.

"It's this… _nightmare_… I keep having… I'm this… monster… and you're being possessed. We're fighting downtown and I turn into the… m-monster… and we're trying to kill each other… and then you called me… p-pathetic and I…" he took a staggered breath, closing his eyes long and hard.

When he opened them, he averted them carefully, his stomach hurting from the dread. The calloused hand was still tangled in his hair, rhythmically running through the black strands in a casual, calming pattern. Worried lines came to the surface on Bruce's face, his lips turned down in a frown.

"It was just a dream, Dick," he assured his ward. "I would _never_… let me repeat this, once again for your sake: _NEVER_… do any of that. I would never fight you with the intention to harm you. I would never insult you like that. You aren't a monster either. You're a hero- and don't forget it."

Dick's fear refused to subside, a weak smile forced to his lips. The sadness broke Bruce's heart, giving him reason to settle down into the bed, clicking his tongue lightly to catch the dark blue gaze with his own.

"… Okay?" he asked slowly.

Dick blinked, frowning lightly, adjusting his gaze towards the door.

"Richard John Grayson…" Bruce whispered the name, not wanting to sound as if he was scolding instead of the comforting he intended to do. "You're a hero now. You serve among the best. You've done so much in four years- so much that the only heroes that compare are those who've been doing this for nearly their whole life! Kids all over look up to you as a hero because you're a normal kid to them, one who came from a normal background. Look, I know times get hard, but that's life. It's not meant to be easy. If it was, there'd be no need for people like you and me. But there is, so I need you to stay strong. … Okay?"

Dick's lips stretched into a weak smile, a faint sparkle coming into his eyes.

"B-Bruce…" his voice shook.

The older ebony chuckled lightly, patting his ward's head lightly before he stood to his feet.

"Goodnight Dick. Get back to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow," he hesitated by the door, switching off the light and smiling as the newest Wayne addition snuggled back under the covers.

He was about to step through the doors to head back to his own room when Dick's gentle cry cut him short. A calloused hand touched to the door frame, dark eyes flashing back into the room.

"Hmm?" he hummed lightly.

Dick sheepishly paused, sitting up for a moment to better face the man in the doorway.

"I uh… Thanks… for that… for everything," he carefully picked his words, rubbing his neck before he picked the next three. "I… I uh… I love you, okay?"

Bruce jumped at the words, calming at the teasing tone to the 'okay'. He smiled softly turning his back and slowly starting to ease the door shut.

"I… love you too," he stumbled over the words before he shut the doors, allowing Dick to hopefully drift off to a world without anymore secrets.

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**Yes. It was a dream. A confusing dream. I SUCK UNDER PRESSURE. OKAY? I'M SORRY! But uh… yeah… I could've done better… way better… I admit… I'm sorry. Random obsession, I hope this was okay… I wasn't impressed… want me to try again..? Review?**

**-F.J.**


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